Learning to Trust Revise
by Lady Healer
Summary: She wanted to be free. To escape the torture that was her life. She never imaged that she would land in another world. Can she learned to trust again after a lifetime of pain? (A note concerning the story inside.)
1. Chapter one: Gift or Curse

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Note for returning or new readers: This is the revise version of Learning to Trust. The old version is still posted and will be until all of the old chapters are reposted, then the old version will be taken off fanfiction.net.

Returning reader will mostly likely notice that not much change in this chapter. Mainly it is sentence structure that did. Though some more detail was added. Most changes will occur around the four and fifth chapter.

With that said, enjoy the story.

Chapter one: Gift or Curse

Golden beams of sunlight drifted through grand windows as a child of nine walked across the marble floor of the dinning hall carrying a stack of plates. Occasionally, she would trip over the mucky rags, once a dress, that she wore. Through the torn fabric, dark bruises and angry raw whip marks could be seen marring her body.

For three years she had lived as a servant to the court of Kalin, her will slowly shackled with invisible chains as she endured each new punishment that the nobles delt her. She heard the minstrel at court sing about life being a precious gift, never to be wasted. But life to her was a curse: more terrible then all the demons in Hell. She was a daughter of a noble, but was treated like a slave. Enslaved by the very father that had killed her mother and wish her dead for not being a son.

Her blood father had been too cowardly to kill her himself and had ordered a guard to do it in his stead. But the guard had not the heart and instead had taken her home to his wife to be raised as his own.

For five blessed year she lived in happiness. Helping her mothers with dinners and wrestling with her brothers, often losing. The end of the day would come and the family would sit around the fire and listen to her father's timeworn stories till mother chased them off to bed. But on her sixth birthday that changed. Rumors had reached the king's ear of a child-image of his first wife.

The lord had summoned the family before the court and ordered them killed while her father watched. All but two: the youngest son, a child of three and her. To this day she didn't know what happened to her youngest brother or foster father.

There were rumors that her father was locked in the dungeons to suffer for the rest of his life. Others said that he took his own life while awaiting punishment. As for her brother, barely a whisper was spoken. The only hushed words she knew where that he was put into slavery while others said a nobleman had taken him as his own. She was unsure of which to believe.

Tripping on the edge of her 'skirt' the child lost her balance and the plates went crashing to the floor, shattering as she fell. Fearful gray eyes widened at the echo of running feet. Hastily, she scrambled to her knees, tears of pain slid down her face as glass shards imbedded into her legs, blood soaking the already blackened skirt. Alarmed, she tried to clean the mess, slicing her hands.

The doors of the dinning hall burst opened and a ragged woman in her late thirties ran in.

"Lillian, child, are you alright?" Tears felled from her eyes unchecked as she shook her head, refusing to look at the woman before her. Grasping the child's wrist, the older woman said firmly, "Stop, you are hurting yourself!"

Furiously, she shook her head, replying, frightened, "He'll be mad. I'll be punished."

The older woman tipped the child's face up allowing Lillian to see the sorrow in her gaze. "I know child. Go to Liz, she will tend to your wounds. I will finish cleaning here."

"But… if the master finds you, you be punished Rena."

Smiling sadly, Rena said, "I know child. All will be well, you'll see."

Shaking her head, Lillian hissed, "No! It's my faul-"

Rena's finger on her lips silenced her outburst, her brown eyes narrowed and she commanded, "Go to Liz, child."

"But…" she protested.

"Now," Rena ordered firmly.

Nodding, sadly, Lillian fled the dinning room, wheezing at the pain that stabbed her body. Tears fell from her clouded eyes. She made her way towards Liz, it was the last time she saw Rena alive.  


  
Ten years had passed since she was that nine-year-old girl. And at nineteen years only thing that had change in her life was that her father had finally gained an interest in her, but not as an heir. No, the King of Rolian would never recognize her as his daughter for he failed to realize he had one. Too long had his mind been lost to wine to tell the difference between her mother and her.

He had called her by her dead mother's name, Lylia, and had ordered her to be at his bedchamber tonight. But she would not go to his bed. She had consented when she was told, but she was no fool. Lillian knew about her blood father's ego. If he thought she would obey willingly, he would order his guards to leave her be until evening. Thus he couldn't stop her nor would he have the chance to do to her what he had done to countless others.

She would **not** be his mistress; she would **not** bear his children.

She would die first.

Calmly she walked to the fountain in the mansion garden, sitting on the cold ground. Through emotionless eyes she gazed one last time upon the tiny, imported fish, breathing in the scent of wet flowers. Taking a kitchen knife out of her dirty apron pocket she plunged it into her stomach without hesitation. It was one of the more painful ways to die, but she didn't care. If her soul was immortal, she could be rewarded for a life of servitude, or be condemned for not being satisfied with that servitude. Or, she could simply crease to be in any form and end both torment and/or boredom. Either way, if it meant away from this Hell, she did not care.

As her warm blood spilled over her hands, she failed to notice the changed scenery. No longer did she lay in the manicured garden of her blood father, but a wild forest. Nor did the alarmed voices of a man and three little hobbits register in her thoughts. All she knew was the angelic presence that enfolded her as her mind started to fade to darkness.

Quickly, kneeling next to the wounded lady, a scruffy looking man pulled the knife from her stomach after ripping part of his cloak to create a makeshift bandage. After wrapping it tightly around the wound he gently picked her up, glancing briefly at her closed eyes. "Hold on, my lady." Taking off in a run, the man called back at his companions, "Hurry, We must reach Rivendell!"

Hastily, the halflings followed the ranger while the shortest of them asked, "Isn't there anything you can do for her?"

"Rivendell is less then five minutes away. Lord Elrond will be able to tend her better than I," the man replied without breaking stride.

"But who is she and where does she come from?" another hobbit asked.

"I do not know." He answered as he entered the city.

Like? Hate? Let me know Please!


	2. Chapter Two: Rivendell and Elven Lords

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Lady Tolwen: **I_'m glad you are enjoying the story so much. As for how to make words bold … With documents that I upload to the Internet, I save as a webpage. That allows the markings put in the documents to remain without typing any coding commands into it. I'm not sure if that help you at all, but that how I do it. _****

**Laurelin Ancalimon: **_An English major, wow. Well, I do have a beta reader already, however, I certainly would love any advice you send my way. _

Note.

_Like chapter one, not much has change in this chapter. Mainly in this chapter I was adding detail and getting rid of the head-hopping problem. However, I will tell you that chapter five will be brand new and chapter seven will have new scenes in it. Well, that all for now. See ya._

Chapter two: Rivendell and Elven Lords 

The lord of Imladris looked out from the balcony to the gardens as he pondered recent events. Within a day two beings had arrived in his home—both severely wounded.

Frodo Baggins, a halfling of the Shire, was the first to enter in his care. The young hobbit had suffered a blow from a morgul blade and had been fading fast. But by some miracle the hobbit's spirit had been able to be reached before he had fallen beyond aid. Now he was resting comfortably in a small pavilion. Yet, the scar will remain eternally with him.

Looking towards the morning sky, his thought shifted to his second charge: a small human woman with unknown origins. When his foster son had come running into Rivendell—he had given little thoughts to such questions—the woman's wounds to severe to waste time.

But at a glance, he noticed many things about her. The child's cheeks were sunken in, and one glance confirmed his suspicions that she was badly malnourished. Her appearance was filthy—dirt and blood had covered her from head to toe—she had not bathed for many weeks, perhaps months. Precious moments were spent cleaning the stab wound before he could treat it, and by that time, inflection had set in.

After the wound was treated he had ordered maids to bathe her before he came back to examine her. What he had seen at his second visit had surprised him, but only a little; he had seen far worse things in his time in this world. Throughout the check-up he had spotted others signs that implicated abuse… But the one thing that did truly surprise him was that the stab wound was self-inflicted; it was easy to tell by the angle and placement.

The sound of footsteps brought him out of his thoughts as his foster son entered the room. Silence passed between them before Elrond stated, "The girl you brought to me is resting comfortably. Her injury was severe enough that I did not question you at the time," the elf turned to watch Aragorn, one hand left on the balcony, as the human joined him. "Where did you find a human so young and steeped in misery that she made an attempt on her own life?"

Looking at the gardens below, Aragorn answered, "I found her outside of Rivendell. No more than ten minutes walking distance." Turning his blue-gray eyes to his foster father he questioned, "How could she come so close without alerting the sentinels?"

"I do not know," replied the Elven lord as he gazed at the gardens below. "I do not believe that this was the first time that our lady stranger has been hurt."

The man's silence was question enough.

Sighing, Elrond continued. "There are old scars on her back and arms. They suggest the use of an item, a whip or scourge for example."

Studying his foster father carefully Aragorn asked, "Do you think that may be the reason? Could she have been captured by orcs?"

"It is possible," the eldar consented, but he doubted it. Though the orcs loved to torture, the marks on the child did not match what the foul creatures would have done… And the starvation had to be considered. If he was correct this abuse had gone on for many years, and orcs almost never kept their victims alive that long. "But we will not know until she awakens."

Turning around to face Aragorn, Elrond continued, "Estel, I want you to patrol the nearby area and learn if there is anyone else. If so, I want them brought to me." A small smile graced the human's lips at his childhood name.

"Of course, my lord." Pausing for only a brief moment, he asked, "How is Frodo, the injured hobbit?"

"He is mending well." Elrond looked out across his valley realm toward the small pavilion where the ring barer rested. "Frodo shall make a full recovery, though he will never be rid of the scars his night in Arman sul left him."

"Hopefully, he will never need to take further injury." And with that comment, Aragorn left the room to complete his task.

One week later

Drifting slowly from the world of black, Lillian woke to an unfamiliar softness. 'This must be the Afterlife.' The disposed princess thought drowsily. 'It's nicer then I'd thought.' A warm breeze stirred her hair, startling her. Her hair was clean and brushed. It was an odd feeling. The servants of the court of Kalin rarely had water to bathe—it was lucky if them could cleanse themselves once a year.

A shaft of sunlight illuminated half of her face and blinking she turned her head from the uncomfortable brightness, her eyes stopping on her warm brown hair. It was strange seeing it so clean—she had grown used to seeing it in a tangled messed, packed with dirt, looking like a shoulder length mud ball. But now it was clean, dull, but clean, and Lillian decided she liked the feeling. For the first time in years, she didn't have the urge to scratch her scalp trying to get rid of some irritating inching feeling.

But why was it clean? Shifting, a twinge fluttered up in her stomach and although small, she gasped at the sensation.

Pain: the one common factor in life. If she felt pain, then she wasn't dead. But if she was truly alive, what was this place? And how did she get here? Lillian frowned. Who saved her, and most importantly, why?

Shaking her head to clear it, she looked around the room. It was bigger then her old room, but such a thing was not difficult to imagine—her old room was little more then a closet. This was a simple room, yet it projected a beauty that she had never seen before. Every inch of wood was carved in relief, vaulting high to the ceiling, or embracing the tall windows. She couldn't see from here, but the open shutters carried in the scent of trees and water. To the right of the bed that she lay, covered in silken blankets, was an elegant table with two chairs.

Shifting her attention to the entranceway her gaze froze on the person standing in the arched doorway, a small tray in his hands. He was…handsome. Easily the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

The stranger was dressed in a blue, long sleeved tunic with the tope laces undone, revealing fair skin and a well-define chest. A pair of well-tailored tan leggings suited his figure quite well. Two small braids pulled back his chestnut hair, revealing his pointed ears. The odd shape of his ears did nothing to decrease his beauty, instead enhancing it, giving him an aura of a mystical being. He had a youthful appearance, yet his gray eyes belied his appearance, showing years of wisdom, despite their mirth.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust you are feeling better," said the stranger in a deep soothing voice. His voice shook Lillian from her reverie. Mentally cursing her error, she cast her eyes down as she tensed, preparing for the blow.

If any servants made eye contact with a noble, they were immediately beaten—her cursed blood father and his court held themselves above it, as did all his guests.

Frowning, the stranger questioned, "Why do you tensed, my lady?"

Her head bowed, Lillian whispered dejectedly, "I must be punished." The stranger stopped still as he blinked and blinked again.

"Why would my father make the effort to heal you, only to make more scars?"

"If you would allow me to speak freely, my lord?" Lillian waited until her peripheral vision saw him nod, "There are many sadistic and perverse nobles in the court of my master."

"Well," the stranger said, placing his fine nose in the air, "although, I may be perverse, I assure you that no harm is to be dealt in the Last Homely House." His unsubtle mockery did not catch in Lillian's mind. A sudden fear gripped her as she though of what she might be required to do in order to repay this strange man's hospitality.

Fortunately, he saw her hesitation and corrected himself…after a fashion. "Madame, I will not ask you to chew my food for me or other such trivialities." He set the tray down on a side table. "Indeed, I only ask you to chew your own." Reaching for her hand, as it lay bunched in the coverlet, he raised it to his lips. "Welcome to the House of my father, Elrond Halfelven. I am Elrohir, brother of Elladan. May I have your name, my Lady?"

"I, I am Lillian, daughter of Lylia, servant in the Court of Kalin." She flushed deeply as Elrohir kissed her hand in the way of princes.

"Welcome to Rivendell, Lady Lillian." The woman shifted, uncomfortable in the company in this beautiful stranger, biting back a wince at the action. This stranger, this Elrohir, said she was in Rivendell, but where was that? She had never heard of it before.

Looking out of the corner of her eye, she glanced at Elrohir before locking onto the tray of food. She was hungry. And the plate was set for a king. It was probably this stranger's meal. Nobles never really did care if a staved servant watched them while they ate.

Normally, she had one meal for the day, maybe two if she was lucky and the portions were always small. She would have been sickly thin if she hadn't been good enough at stealing from the kitchens or if Galen had not brought some pieces of bread to her. It was never much, but it kept her alive. As it was, she was still dangerously underweight.

Elrohir caught her sideways glances at the tray of food and smiled warmly. "You can eat if you wish. I brought it for you in case you woke up."

Lillian's eyes widened. Why would a noble bring a servant food? The woman opened her mouth to ask her question but before any sound escaped she closed it. She had almost broken two of the rules ingrained in her mind since she was six; to never question a noble, and to never speak without permission. Studying her hands once more, Lillian shook her head slowly.

Frowning, Elrohir said gently, "Surely you are hungry. You were unconscious for a week. All we managed to trickle down your throat was some broth."

Again, the woman shook her head. She was hungry, true, but it was wrong for a servant to be brought food by a noble. The stranger's frown deepened as he watched the child before him, pity entering his eyes. Shaking his head, he carefully blanked his emotions while forcing a small smile, commenting, "It is all right, Lady Lillian. You can speak freely here. Ask any questions you might have."

Looking up in surprise, Lillian briefly locked gazes with the beautiful 'man.' No noble had made such an offer to a servant before. Was he testing her? And again, Lillian curse herself, as she dropped her eyes to her hands.

Opening his mouth to soothe her fears, he stopped when he heard a grumble from the timid woman's stomach. Smiling gently, Elrohir reached for the tray of food. The smiled faded and his hand stilled as he saw the reaction the young woman had to her slight noise.

Lillian had curled herself into a small ball. Her eyes closed tightly and her body tensed like she was expecting to be hit. When nothing came, Lillian opened one eye to find the room was empty. The only sign the man had been there was the steaming tray at her bedside.

- - - - - - -

Walking down the corridors, Elrohir allowed his thoughts to dwell on the new guest. She had arrived only a week ago, mortally wounded, and no one knew whence she had come. But one thing was clear through her actions, she had been mistreated badly there.

She called herself a servant, yet her manner led him to believe that she had lived along the lines of slavery. He had never seen any servant react like her, but he had seen the prisoners of orcs respond like that—his own mother being one of them.

Shaking his head to push the sorrow aside, Elrohir concentrated on the matter at hand. He didn't believe that the human have been in the hands of orcs. First glance told him, as it did for his father, that she had been practically starved for years, and orcs didn't keep their captives that long—not alive anyways.

But another matter confused him. She had said she was from the court of Kalin, but he had never heard of a lord from any kingdom by the name of Kalin. Yet, he didn't believe she was lying either.

Stopping at a crossway, Elrohir glanced over his shoulder. He had a feeling that the malnutrition the girl had suffered from had also weakened her immune system. Her healing process was considerably slower then what an average human's was. He hoped that she would eat what he had left and gain some strength.

But either way, his father needed to know of the new developments, now it was just a matter of finding him… Despite all the tasks his father had given him growing up, finding him when it wasn't an emergency was by far the hardest.

- - - - - - - - -

"His strength returns." Elrond comments as Gandalf and he watched the hobbits' reunion.

"That wound will never fully heal. He will carry it the rest of his life." Gandalf stated solemnly.

"And yet to have come so far still bearing the Ring ... the Hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to its evil." Elrond replied turning his attention to Gandalf.

"It is a burden he should never have to had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo." Gandalf said firmly before asking, "What is this I heard about a mysterious woman you treated for a stab wound? Do you know who the lass is?"

Shaking his head, Elrond started to walk down the hallway, answering, "No, I don't. She has not yet awakened."

"Mmmm..." Seeing one of Elrond's twin sons approaching, Gandalf refrained from continuing with his comment.

"Ada, the mystery woman, Lady Lillian, has awakened," Elrohir said as he came to a stop in front of his father.

"Her name is Lillian, you say." Elrond turned to his son with some warmth in his features. "Have you learned anything else?"

"Only that she has spent many years in slavery." Two backs stiffened at that.

"You know this because she has told you?"

"I know, Master Gandalf," Elrohir spoke to the wizard while keeping his gaze on his father, "because she addressed herself as a servant. Yet she refused to meet my eyes, and also held herself as one accustomed to beatings."

Closing his eyes briefly, before returning his gazed to his son, Elrond continued. "Do you know where she came from or how she arrived near Rivendell?"

Elrohir shook his head. "No. Every time she did or said something that her 'Master,' " he spat the word out with disgust. "disapproved of, she would tense, waiting to be hit. I thought it best to inform you first and seek your advice, Father."

"We need to know where she comes from and her history if we are going to help her." The elf lord stated. Pausing briefly to study his son, he could see anger, but did not comment on it. "Do not push her for her past. Let her come to terms with it, and know that she is free here. She need not answer to anyone, and that includes ourselves. Let her understand that we are here to help her not harm her."

"That will not be easy," Elrohir commented, remembering the lady's earlier actions. "She still fears her master's law."

"Then we will have to show her that no longer exists for her," Elrond replied, switching directions to head towards the room where Lady Lillian rested. "Come, I would like to meet this lady and greet her properly to Rivendell." The eldar said, a slight note of teasing at the end.

Shaking his head, smiling, Elrohir stated, "I already did that father."

Raising one eyebrow at his son, the Elven Lord teased, "Did your flirting make a difference in the end, my son?"

"Ada!"

-----------------

Like? Hate? Please let me know!


	3. Chapter 3: Many meetings and truth revea...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Lady Tolwen:**_ Sorry for the error in your name in the last chapter. I already made the corrections. Thanks for pointing it out._

Note:

_Like last chapter, not much change in this chapter. For this and the next chapter, I am mainly get rid of the head hopping problem and adding details._

**Chapter 3: Many meetings and truth revealed.**

Why didn't he punish her? Lillian wondered, her hunger forgotten as her thoughts raced. She had broken the rules, more than once. Yet, this strange noble didn't hit her or even yell. She stared at the spot where Elrohir had stood just minutes earlier, confused about his actions.

He was different and not just because of his ears either. He ignored her mistakes; he brought her food and encouraged her to eat. He even allowed her to speak freely. No noble had ever done that. Why did he?

A grumble from her stomach drew Lillian out of her thoughts. Alarmed, she scanned the room for people. Finding herself alone, she breathed a sigh of relief. If no one was around, she could not be punished for her error. After a quick glare at her stomach, Lillian's eyes focused on the tray.

It was wrong to eat food given by a noble. There were punishments for such. In her blood father's home, the upper class enjoyed tormenting the servants with their twisted humors. They would offer food and if the servant accepted the food, they were beaten until near death. But if they declined, they were locked in the dungeons for a week to starve.

The only way out of that situation was to go unnoticed by the nobles. That in it's self was no easy task, for the aristocrats often looked for reasons to punish those below them. And if they could not find a reason they often made up one, using the servants as a way to curb their own boredom.

This new noble seemed different. He projected of aura of kindness and sincerity. One she had not seen since her foster father. But the Father of her heart was not a noble. From her hazy memories, Lillian could recall that her foster parents did things because they were right. But she learned later that nobles did not have the same attitude. They were greedy, uncaring, and only wanted more power.

Except, for a select few; her mother's family among them. Rena and Liz, her only friends, whose families had served the crown since before her grandfather's time, told her. Her mother had been the true heiress to the throne of Rolian. Her blood father-a low ranking noble-had married into the royal family. She was told that when everyone first met Kalin, he played the part of a sweet, caring person. It was only after the marriage and the mysterious deaths of the king and queen that his true colors showed through.

Her mother's father, King Thildern, didn't want his daughter burdened with the duties of ruling, and gave the mantle of power to his new son-in-law. The next month, the King and Queen were found dead. They were both old and it had been assumed that they died in their sleep. However, once Kalin started ruling with a marked lack of concern for his wife's grief, the people began to wonder at the death of their beloved monarchs.

By that time, it was too late. The new king had already placed his allies in the position to stop any rebellion. Those who questioned Kalin's rule or took a stand against him were killed on the spot.

Shaking her head to free it of the past, Lillian focused on the food. Perhaps, this once, she would risk the punishment of her actions. She was hungry and a week of starvation would kill her anyway. Slowly, wincing at the pain in her stomach, she sat up and the covers fell down.

Lillian's eyes widened in shock at the clothes she wore. The nightgown was too big for her malnourished body and sagged in many places. But it was beautiful. An elegant white nightdress with silver embroidery stitched along the round neckline. Lillian was almost positive that it was made out of silk. But why would nobles waste such material on a servant?

Once more Lillian shook her head, deciding to ponder it later. Reaching out towards the tray of food, the young woman didn't notice the three beings that silently walked through the door as she brought the tray to her lap. She cursed herself, when the goblet of water fell to the floor, because of her shaking hands. She just hoped she wouldn't be punished to harshly.

She had just gotten the tray onto her lap and quickly devoured the food. There was no time to waste on spoons, so she tilted the bowl and slurped the broth, scraping the vegetable from the bottom with her fingers. She had only started the first slice of bread when her stomach rebelled. She hunched over the tray, and fought to keep a few precious morsels in her gullet. When the gag reflex seceded, she lifted her torso back into a sitting position.

She was tired. Her body was still weak from the wound she inflicted on herself. That was another thing she didn't understand. Why did they waste the time and effort to save her? She started to return the tray to the table, when two hands took the tray from her. Looking up in alarm she locked glazes with the elf from before.

She wasn't sure what these nobles were going to do to her; she just prayed that the punishment wouldn't be too harsh.

- - - - - - -

Her tensed back and shoulders and the darting glances at the entranceway told of fear. It saddened the trio to see that she was so afraid of the rules that her old 'lord' had set that she feared to be caught eating.

Elrohir started forward when a hand stopped him. Elrohir looked at his father, the question showing clearly in his eyes. Elrond just shook his head in reply. The elf lord motioned to the side of the room. Taking the subtle suggestion, the trio moved to the left side of the room away from the doorway, and watched the lady.

She ate too fast, and her body reacted to the food as it would a poison. Her face turned green, and with a look that spoke of experience, she fought her own body. With the pain retreating, Lillian glanced at the door again, fear darkening her eyes.

"Here, let me help, Lady Lillian." Elrohir whispered softly as he took the tray from her and set it onto the table. Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she stiffened.

Sorrowful eyes studied her, before taking her left hand and ignoring the way she was tensed; Elrohir placed a light kiss upon it.

"I hope you enjoyed your meal, Lady Lillian. But I see your water was spilled. And as you must thirst after such a hearty meal, I shall go get you more."

- - - - - - -

Lillian's eyes snapped open, reverting to a stormy gray. Noble don't do such things for servants.

Elrohir kissed her hand again before he bent down and picked up the fallen goblet, setting it on the tray. Gently smiling at Lillian, he said, "I will be back, my Lady, with your water." And with that he left the room. Nodding to his father at his pointed gaze.

She watched him leave and was more confused then she was before. He was so insistent about doing the work of servants. He knew she was a servant and yet he waited on her. He acted nothing like the nobles back home. Of all the rules she had broken thus far, she had received no punishment. She wasn't sure how she was meant to act around him and it scared her.

"Hello, Lady Lillian," a different voice said to her right. Lillian head snapped to the side, staring at the two figures in shock. Why didn't she hear them come in? How long had they been there? The one who spoke was a 'man' who looked similar to Elrohir, with chestnut hair and brown eyes.

'Perhaps a brother?' was the thought that came to the girl's frozen mind. The stranger had a golden circlet upon his brow and wore a light gray robe with white embroidery, with a midnight blue over-robe. Like Elrohir, the stranger had fair skin and a youthful appearance. But the powerful aura that surrounded him projected not only kindness but also years of wisdom. It gave the impression that he was older then he looked. The other stranger was an elderly man with a long gray hair and beard. The old man wore a simple gray robe and leaned heavily upon a staff.

"Lady Lillian, allow us to introduce ourselves." The seemly younger person said, waking Lillian from her shock. Mentally cursing herself she cast her eyes to her hands. "My name is Elrond Halfelvin. I'm am the Lord of Rivendell." Lillian's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. That was Elrohir's father!? But he looked so young!

Elrond smiled at the lady's reaction. Motioning towards the old man he continued, "This is Gandalf the Gray." Walking towards the young lady, the Elven lord asked, "My lady, would it be all right if I asked you a few questions?"

He was asking permission to question her? He was a noble. A high raking one at that! He didn't need her consent to question her! So why was he asking? Keeping her head bowed, she nodded.

Nodding, Elrond continued, "Thank you. However, if you have any questions feel free to speak."

For what had to be the fourteenth time that day, Lillian felt shock enter her system. Why were the nobles here so different from the ones at home? Why would they care about some lowly servant's feelings? Was this a cruel trick? Or were they really this kind? They seemed sincere…

Elrond waited a couple seconds to let Lillian adjust, before asking, "Where do you hail from, Lady Lillian?"

"Rolian" Lillian replied quietly.

After a quick glanced at Elrond, Gandalf said, "Rolian? Do you mean Rohan?"

"No. I mean Rolian." Lillian answered softly, confusion plainly in her voice. "I never heard of Rohan before."

The elven lord pondered that answer before acting on a hunch. "Have you ever heard of Middle-Earth?"

"No," was her scared reply.

Nodding his head slightly, he asked, "What is your world called, Lady Lillian?"

Her world? Confusion clouded her eyes again, but she answered quickly. "Lindreal."

"Well then, my child, " Elrond said gently, "you are no longer in your world. You are in the lands of Middle-Earth."

Lillian looked up in shock, not realizing that she had locked gazes with the elven Lord. She was in another world? But how? What would happen to her now? She couldn't go home, even if she wanted too. But the thought of everything that was familiar being gone and replaced by the unfamiliar scared her. "If you cannot send me back," Lillian asked, shaking, "what will you do with me?" "You will be a guest of course," Elrond soothed. "You shall stay here in Rivendell as long as necessary." Elrohir entered then, humming a merry tune, and holding a large pitcher of cool water. He filled a new goblet and took out a pouch of herbs. 

"This will help with the pain, my Lady." He showed her a small vile of brownish powder. "Add these to your drink in the evening," he flashed a handful of crumpled leaves, "and it will allow you better sleep. But this," he pulled a blooming rose from behind his back, "will make you fall in love with me."

In the background, Elrond pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "It has to be the human in him."

"Or," Gandalf interrupted, "it could be his way of socializing the girl." He turned from his old friend and looked at the bed's blushing occupant. "She has long lived with no positive attention, and here, she will be subject to intense curiosity."

"Regardless, of his intent," the elf lord strode over to the bed. "The Lady has had a trying evening. She must rest and recover."

"Oh, you never let me have any fun," Elrohir whined. One stern glare later: "Very well." He added the appropriate herbs to Lillian's water, and handed it to her. "Drink now, and sleep well."

Still confused about these strange noble's actions, Lillian nodded. She didn't understand why they wasted such things on her, but had a feeling that they were not taking no for an answer. And slowly, she drank. After the last drop was gone, Lillian could feel her eyes become heavy and the world faded into darkness.

Three days later. 

Walking down the halls, Elrohir hummed a merry tune, holding an overflowing tray in his hands. Today, his father agreed that Lillian was well enough for small walks, and Elrohir decided to show her around after they had their breakfast. And today will be the first day they would dine together.

Lillian was afraid to eat in front of a noble, because of the maxims she had ingrained into her. Elrohir understood this. But he was determined to help her overcome that fear. The first day after she had woken, he just brought her food and left, allowing her to eat alone. But yesterday, he did not. A small smile graced Elrohir's lips as he recalled the day's events.

-----Flashback-----

_"Good morning, Lady Lillian," Elrohir said cheerfully as he sat the tray of food across Lillian's lap. _

_Keeping her head bowed, she replied, "Thank you, Lord Elrohir." From the corner of her eyes she watched the strange 'man'; her hands remained resting on the bed. She was waiting for him to leave. Elrohir knew she still feared eating before a noble, but had decided that today he was going to help break that fear. Pulling a chair to her bedside, he gracefully sat._

_"It is all right, Lillian. You are allowed to eat in anyone's presence here." She shook her head slowly, hands staying where they were. Elrohir could see the fear and mistrust in her eyes and it saddened him, but knew she would react this way. It was understandable, if he was right, then her past was a dark one. It would take time for her to step out of the boundaries that she had been forced into. _

_A slight smile crossed his lips. He'll just have to prove that he was nothing like those nobles, and he had a good idea of how to do that. Picking up the spoon Elrohir dipped it into the porridge. And, mimicking an up and down pattern, brought it to Lillian's lips cooing, "Open up, horsey coming through." _

_His childish speech was so unexpected and so bizarre that Lillian opened her mouth to laugh...only to have the spoon shoved in. She almost choked. Instead, she puffed her cheeks, put both hands over her pursed lips, and concentrated on swallowing. _

_"Too hot?" her tormentor asked. Lillian's eyes narrowed as she regained her breath, glaring at the hand holding the spoon before she promptly turned her faced away. _

_Elrohir smiled slightly. In her eyes, for a brief moment, he had seen the start of her healing. Slowly, as he spent more time with her, barriers that she hid behind were crumbling and a spark of her spirit was beginning to shine through, or at least her temper. _

_She had **wanted** to snap at him. And at that moment he thought she would have if he didn't have another spoonful ready. Slapping the hand that held the spoon lightly, Elrohir continued with his charade. "Bad horsey. You made Lady Lillian mad. Back to the sables with you." _

_Her mouth twitched. _

_Elrohir's smile grew as he set the spoon down and picked up an apple slice to hold at her lips. Study her face; Elrohir realized that she was slowly losing her fear of him, though confusion seemed to swirl within her blue-gray eyes. The progress was slow, but knowing that he was helping this child warmed his heart. _

_"Perhaps little birdie would make Lady Lillian feel better." Her lips twitched, but the girl kept her mouth shut. Pouting, Elrohir continued, "Little birdie just wants to help. Let birdie help. Birdie not like horsey. Birdie will be good." _

_He watched the muscles in her throat jump. She was trying not to laugh, and succeeding. The most natural action the children of Iluvatar were capable of, and she mostly controlled it. If he had not known the circumstances of her reserved nature, he would have thought her the best-trained warrior in Middle-earth. _

_"Lady Lillian no like birdie? Birdie sad." Elrohir continued cooing, fighting back the urge to laugh, himself. "Birdie just want to help" Elrohir made a diving motion with his hand snatching up a small piece of toast. Waving it in front her in face in flying motions, saying. "Birdie found mousey. Mousey wanted to give you gift. So, good birdie brought nice mousey, which brought you gift. Lady Lillian like nice mousey gift, yes? Birdie was right to bring mousey? Please say birdie did well. Birdie wants to be good." _

_"Please, Lord Elrohir," she exclaimed her face still turned. "Do not act so! You are a grown man of Blood, not a child." _

_"But I am not a grown man, I am an elf with countless millennia ahead of me." He picked up the spoon again. "So horsey will be here until the food grows cold." _

_"An Elf?" Lillian questioned, confusion coloring her voice. _

_"Ah... There are no elves in your old world, are there?" Elrohir asked as he set the food back on the tray. At Lillian's nod, he continued, "I, my brother, and my father, are all Elves, though there is some human blood in our line." Elrohir raised the spoon to her lips once more, continuing his explanation. "Elves are an immortal race. We do not grow old, we do not become ill. In fact there is only two ways we can die, of a fatal wound or grief." _

_"But how can griephm!" He put the spoon in her mouth again. As she swallowed, with less fanfare than last time, he gathered his words. _

_"Elves feel, more, than most humans do. Sometimes when we lose a lover or close relation, we find ways to destroy ourselves." _

_Deep in thought Lillian failed to notice when Elrohir shoved more porridge into her mouth._

-----End Flashback----- 

Walking into Lillian's room, Elrohir called out cheerfully, "Good morning, Lady Lillian!" Groaning, Lillian threw the blankets over her head and Elrohir smiled. Yesterday, she would have been to scare to carry through such an action. But since his antics, she was decidedly less timid and growing surer of herself. 

Lillian didn't really trust him, but she had stopped fearing him like she first did. It would take more then three days to heal from a lifetime, but it was a start. The first time he had met her, she was afraid of doing anything against her noble's rules. But now, after much coaxing she was slowly becoming her own person.

After setting the trays on the table, Elrohir walked to the bed, pulling the blankets off, saying, "No time to hide today! It's time to get up. We have many things to do." Ignoring her unintelligible mumblings, Elrohir scooped her into his arms, effectively waking her.

She buried her head in her hands. "Please, Lord Elrohir. Do not trouble yourself."

"Trouble?" Elrohir repeated, while walking toward the table. "It is no trouble. I quite enjoy carrying such a lovely lady around."

"My Lord," she almost whined. "Do you not have more important duties as the son of the regional Lord?" Elrohir smiled at her reply. That was another thing that had changed. She was losing her fear of speaking to him, though she often chose to remain in silence.

"None that Elladan cannot perform," he sang smugly.

Lillian groaned as Elrohir sat her in a chair. Grinning, he sat in his own seat and said; "Now I suggest we eat up. Father finally consented that you were healed enough to be walking around and I plan on giving you a tour of my home."

She looked up, her eyes locking with those of Elrohir's in shock and fear, before bowing her head and dropping her eyes to the table in shame.

Yet despite the progressed they had made he stilled failed in trying to get her to understand that she would not be punished for making eye contact. But her healing would take time before she overcame her history. He would have to be patient.

Sighing, Elrohir said soothingly, "It is all right Lillian." Tipping her chin upward he looked in her eyes, slightly disappointed that she kept her gaze on the table, "And you can meet my eyes if you so wish."

He sighed again as he spotted Lillian's shocked eyes. It may take more then him to reassure her that she was allowed to be herself and to leave the rules of her world behind.

- - - - - - - - 

Three hours later. 

His home was beautiful. Lillian had not seen anything like it before in her life. Rivendell was very different from her old home. The city itself truly blended with its surroundings; as if it had been here for ages and would always remain so.

_'And it very well could,'_ Lillian reflected. _'It's inhabits are immortal creatures.' _

That was another concept that she had trouble grasping. Back in her world there had been no immortal beings. People lived and people died, that was the way of life. The one all encompassing law. Not even the King could escape it, yet these elves did.

No, they could die Elrohir had explained that. But … the thought of living forever without aging or illnesses still sent her mind reeling. She couldn't image living such a life. Yes, the prospect was appealing, the thought of having the time to do everything one wanted too, but in the end it seemed like a curse to her. To be the same while everything else changed around them. Lillian didn't understand how they could live such a life without becoming bitter.

And yet, from what she as seen, the elves did manage to do just that. They seemed to be happy, caring souls bearing many years of wisdom. Though, in Elrohir's case, retaining a degree of childishness even into the adult years.

That was another topic that Lillian was curious about. How old was Elrohir? And how do elves age? Did they reach a point where they stopped aging? How long do elves stay children?

But she would not question Elrohir. It was not her place to do so. Back home, questioning a noble was punishable by death. This place may not have the same restrictions, but she didn't know where these new boundaries lay.

Elrohir smiled at Lillian's reaction to his home. Looking out towards the garden Elrohir spotted two hobbits walking towards them and an idea struck him. Walking towards the hobbits, he called out to them. "Good morning Masters Merry and Pippin. How are you this fair day?"

"Good morning, Lord Elrohir. We're heading inside to see if we get some second breakfast." Replied one of the hobbits happily. He jerked his companion around to look at Lillian, exclaiming, "Look, Merry. It the girl we found outside of Rivendell."

"I know, Pippin." The other hobbit said, before he turned to Lillian and bowed. "Hello miss. I am Meriadoc Brandybuck, but please called me Merry. The diminutive orc to by right is Peregin Took…"

"Call me Pippin," he said hitting Merry in the head. "What's your name?"

"Lillian." She answered softly as her thoughts raced. Orc? What was an Orc? How many races existed in this strange world?

Elrohir could see the confusion in her eyes and explained, "They are hobbits. Hobbits are an agricultural people from the West. They are also known as halflings and shire-folk." Turning to them he continued to explain. "Lady Lillian is not from this world. She is from a land called Lindreal. She is still adjusting to the cultural differences." Seeing Pippin was about to ask a question, the elf interrupted, "And no, we do not know how to return her to her world yet."

Pippin looked up at Elrohir in surprise. "How did you know I was going to ask that?"

Shrugging, Elrohir smiled. "A hunch."

Turning his attention back to Lillian, Pippin exclaimed, "You can have second breakfast with us! We can tell you all about hobbits and the Shire!"

Lillian was overwhelmed. Ever since she had arrived in this place she had been confused. Nothing was the same here and all the contradictions were giving her a headache. She didn't know what to make of these halflings, though they seemed friendly. But appearances could be deceiving…

Head slightly bowed, Lillian stared at her hands. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to act, but they were waiting for a reply. But… What to say? 

"What is a second breakfast?" Lillian questioned softly.

Pippin stared at her in horror, "You don't know about second breakfast?" At Lillian shook her head no he continued, "What about elevenses?" Again Lillian shook her head, more confused then before. "Luncheon?"

"No." Lillian replied.

If it was possible, more shock entered Pippin face as he continued questioning. "Afternoon tea?"

Lillian, again, shook her head.

"Dinner? Supper?"

Shaking her head, Lillian explained, "No. Back home I was accustomed to one, maybe two, meals a day."

The three males stared at her, and again, Elrohir's eyes narrowed briefly in anger before he blanked his emotions once more opening his mouth. But before he could comment on it, Pippin exclaimed, "Merry, she doesn't know how to eat! How can anybody live on one meal a day?"

"I don't know Pip." Stepping towards Lillian, Merry requested, "Allow us to introduce you to Hobbit culture." Not wanting to upset these beings, Lillian nodded.

"Great. Off to the kitchens we go," Pippin exclaimed, before asking, "Um ... where are the kitchens?"

Smiling Elrohir smiled, "I can lead you there." - - - - - - - Several hours later, a smiling Elrohir carried a sleeping Lillian back to her room. The hobbits were a great help in her healing. Their fun loving personalities allowed her to relax. He also noticed when she discovered that neither held the title 'lord' that she also talked more eagerly. She would need to spend more time with them. 

Entering her room, Elrohir laid her down on the bed before exiting the room to call a maid. Standing outside the room he waited patently while she prepared Lillian for bed. After a couple of minutes the maid left, giving the OK to enter.

As he reentered the room, he smiled at the sleeping figure dressed in white. She must have been exhausted. But he half expected that, she had had a tiring day and was still recovering from her past wounds.

Tomorrow, she would dine with everyone else at breakfast. She was afraid of doing so, he saw it in her eyes when she told him, but she would be all right. No one here would hurt her. And deep inside her there laid a strength that had long since been buried. He could feel it.

Gently, he tucked the sleeping woman in with a kiss on the forehead and a whispered, "Goodnight."

-------------

Like? Hate? Let me know please!

The next chapter will be out soon.

Till next time.


	4. Chapter 4: The day the elves forget thei...

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

**Lady Tolwen:** _Don't worry. I believe you. Truth is I love it when people share their views or thoughts, good or bad, on the story. It allows me to see it from a different perceptive and points out where some of my weak spots are. Allowing me to go back and make them better at some point._

_ As for your comments…thank you. _

_In Lindreal there is probably some nobles which are 'nice', but keep in mind that the info about those nobles come from Lillian's point of view, so it may not be fully true as a whole. In Lillian's past, there could be some nobles which had treated her with kindness, but they are few and far in between. Most likely, those memories are pushed back far enough where she doesn't recall them, yet. She is more or less in a certain mind state at the moment. Nobles=evil. Not always true but it keeps her out of trouble. Personally, I can't see her thinking something like- nobles are cruel, but there was that one that was nice- only in different words. She's hurt and scared right now so her thought progress reflects it. When she's heals more, different aspect of Lindreal and it's nobles will be revealed._

_It does become a little repetitive after awhile, doesn't it? Some of it is done on purpose, but I might eventually go back at a later date and see what I can do to make it a little less repetitive._

_As for her thinking that she deserved better… She does, it just not very strong at the moment. I had hinted it a couple of times in chapter 1, 3, and in this chapter as well. They are no mean obvious. Some of them are ones you need to read in between the lines to see or they are hinted in a small action. But like with the noble concept, with her healing it will change/grow. It will become more obvious that she want to be treated better, but it will comes in strides. Can't exactly have her jump from point A to Z without the in between steps, can I? However, things have a way of becoming worst before they get better. And that is true here. In the old version, I keep her true reaction to Elrond's decision out, and in the process made the story lighter then it was. That won't happen this time. Lillian's dark thoughts at the beginning couldn't have just disappear after roughly a month or less of being in Rivendell—even with Elrohir around. So, her increase and decrease in healing will be show more clearly._

_As for her nobility…She is use to hiding it, no way around that. But part of her doesn't want to accept it, not truly, which ties back up with wanting to be treated better. With her past, comes fears—some I have revealed, some I haven't. In a way her accepting her birthright **and** admitting it to others is part of her healing. Something, at this point, she is not ready for. _

_Oi, this is the longest reply I have ever written. I did ramble on a bit, sorry about that. I sometimes do that when I'm talking about something I love. Well, I'll shut up now. Till next time._

-

-

-

-

-

Note:_ Like the pervious chapters, not much has change. I was mainly getting rid of head hopping. However, next chapter will be brand new. I'm just not sure when it will be out._

**Chapter 4: The day the elves forget their grace.**

Lillian awoke from her slumber with a slight smile. Yesterday was one of the most interesting days of her life, but also the most stressful. The hobbits were amazing creatures. It seemed as if each race on this strange world was different in its own special way.

It took her awhile to get use to the different physical characteristic that the hobbits had, from the hairy feet to the large ears. And from what she had seen of them thus far, the hobbits were joyous beings with a strong love for food. Lillian still didn't quite understand how such small beings could eat so much.

And how they could talk! She was amazed at how long they could speak on one subject alone. Their favorite topic so far was the proper way to drink ale at some Green Dragon inn. The love of their home and families showed clearly in their voice and eyes. And it touched Lillian. It was nice to be with happy people.

And Lillian wished that she could be more like these fascinating beings. But fear had been deeply implanted in her. She wanted to live life like she chose—to talk and discuss any and every topic with anyone who would listen. But her blood father took that dream away. Perhaps, in this world she would finally get the chance to be as she wished.

But she was afraid. For the last eleven years she labored to go unnoticed—being seen in her home world hurt. But as the days passed that old fear was starting to slip away. The nobles in this world had been nothing but nice to her. But she had met only a few people, and just because some were nice didn't mean all them were. And, she still had to be sure that these nobles meant what they said. She was used to nobles putting up charades to gain what they wanted.

But… Lillian's thoughts continued as she rose out of bed, ignoring the twinge in her side. These nobles had no reason to carry on such a thing, did they? From what she had observed of the elves she met, they were truly caring souls. But, a handful of days were not enough to judge a race, much less trust them. She was still wary. However, with every day she was around this mystical race, that dread was slowly slipping away.

Lillian stopped before a gown laid across the dressing table. It was breathtaking—an eggshell blue gown with butterfly sleeves and navy blue embroidery decorating a v-shaped neckline and empire waistline. Lillian still didn't understand why these people treated her like they did.

Like she was an equal.

Beside the dress was a note. The woman was grateful that she had been taught how to read and write. In her blood father's home, it was forbidden for servants to read or be found writing. Lillian suspected her blood father feared that if servants communicated through the written word they would incite one of his enemies to rise against him. Tyrants always had an enemy. Or perhaps the fear was that the servants themselves would find a loophole in the laws and overthrow him.

One of those loopholes was her. After all, she was of blood. And any one of blood was a threat to Kalin's rule. It was common knowledge that he had ordered to have her killed at birth. Yet, six years later he merely forced her into servitude. Why? Did he believe that by breaking her spirit the threat of her Claim would disappear?

Whatever his reasoning, this strange world elicited a new hope. Lillian's walls had begun to crumble. And the reason started with Elrohir.

There was no romance between them Lillian knew that. They were strangers and people don't fall in love at first glance. But when she stopped fearing him, she started to feel safe around him. Part of the reason was that it was getting harder to see him as a noble as the days passed. But the main reason was he reminded her of Galen.

The palace guard; a flirt, a charlatan, but who did everything that he could to help the servants. In her blood father's home he was one of the few people she would trust with her life.

Lillian just prayed that he was all right.

Shaking her head to clear it, she set the note back on the table before heading to the side room where her bath was ready.

- 

- - - - - 

Two hours later, Lillian stood dressed in the new gown, her waist length hair pulled back in a loose tail, ready to go to breakfast. Well, she looked ready. Inside she was a nervous wreck. Yesterday had been the first day she was allowed to get out of her bed to move around, but she still ate her meals in private.

Today, she was to dine with everyone else, and she was not sure how she was supposed to act. Back home a servant was never allowed to dine at table. But it seemed that many bylaws that existed in Kalin's court, were not enforced. After four days, Lillian still wasn't sure of the rules in this strange place. And that made her uncomfortable and scared.

A knock at the door interrupted, her thoughts. Taking a calming breath, Lillian opened the door.

"Good Morning, Lady Lillian," the fresh face chirped jovially.

"Good morning, Lord Elrohir," she replied softly.

"Shall we go to breakfast?" Seeing her small nod, Elrohir started out. "By the way, Lady Lillian, you look stunning today." A blush on her cheeks was her only answer.

- 

- - - - - - 

Ten minutes later, as they approached the High Table where Elrond and his family dined, Elrohir placed Lillian's hand in the crook of his arm. She looked up at him with fright, careful to avoid eye contact, and he squeezed her fingers. "It is proper and right for a Lady to be escorted to her seat."

She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Gandalf, still wearing his gray robe. "It is good to see you again, Lady Lillian," he rumbled. "We have been eager to talk with you."

"I did not mean to be late." Lillian dropped her eyes before she could take in the rest of his features.

"You are not late, child." The man waved his hand in dismissal. She did not see the amusement that sparkled in his eyes. "You have been injured, and were not allowed to be tormented by an Old Fool."

"Elrohir," an agitated voice said. "Stop monopolizing the lady and introduce her." Lillian glanced at this new voice, and stopped dead. It was another Elrohir. If this one was anything like the original, she would never have a moment's peace.

"Patience brother, patience," Elrohir said as he escorted Lillian to the table. The mischief in his eyes shone brightly as he continued. "I understand that you are jealous of such beautiful company; but if everyone will sit down, I will introduce this lovely lady." Elladan rolled his eyes at his brother's antics, but smiled at the lady while taking his seat.

After everyone had taken his or her seat, Elrohir introduced Lillian. "Ladies and Gentlemen. It is my pleasure to introduce to you, Lillian, daughter of Lylia." Elrohir pulled out Lillian's chair and assisted her in sitting down as he continued the introductions. "Lady Lillian as you already know, the elf at the head of the table, is my good Father: Elrond Halfelvin, Lord of Rivendell. To his right is my twin, Elladan. Unfortunately he didn't take after my personality." She sighed in relief, bringing chuckles to those around. Lillian cringed at the attention; instead she focused her attention to Elrohir.

"Next to my boring brother, is my sister Arwen, beside her is the love her life, Aragorn of Gondor." At Aragorn and Arwen's look of horror he replied in monotone. "Brother, sister. Father knew since the first time you made eyes at each other." Lillian bit her lip to keep from laughing while everyone else chuckled at the couple's blush. "Next to Aragorn is Glorfindel and the love of his life..." Elrohir trailed off at Glorfindel's glare. Shrugging the jester continued, "Well, no one really knows..." Bending down he whispered in her ear, "It is his horse, Asfaloth. So far, no maiden has swayed his heart." Pointedly ignoring Glorfindel's glare, he straightened and continued his introductions.

"Beside him, is Leggy..." Elrohir trailed off again at Legolas's glare and then continued with mock innocence, "I forgot, he doesn't like that nickname. You see he received that name during his childhood when..."

"Elrohir," Legolas interrupted sharply, an unsaid warning in his voice.

"Right, shutting up." Elrohir said quickly, mocking like one in fright. Turning towards Lillian he wink and said, "I'll tell you the story later, when Leggy is not around to interrupt."

Rubbing his forehead, Legolas muttered, "Elrohir ... what did I do to be cursed with a friend like you?"

"You were born," Elrohir replied without missing a beat, causing chuckles around the table. "Anyway, Leggy's real name is Legolas Thrandullion. He's the Prince of Mirkwood. He has a wonderful sense of humor, which is probably the only reason I'm not dead yet."

When Lillian looked up at him in alarm, catching his eyes, Elrohir winked. "But he is a good friend. One of the best I have, in fact. Even when he pushed me into a mud hole a hundred years ago and I had to wait three days before I could get to a stream to wash up." Elrohir crinkled his noise at the memory while the table irrupted in laughter.

Legolas grinned mirthfully and said, "Not to mention the time by the lake when I…"

Looking up sharply, Elrohir interrupted "Don't you dare, Legolas..." Stopping in mid sentence when a thought struck him. Elrohir grinned. "Never mind. Continue on with your story..." Looking at him suspiciously, Legolas opened his mouth to continue when Elrohir interrupted, smiley sweetly, "If you want me to tell the Ladies about Mirkwood and our seven hundreds."

Closing his mouth Legolas sent Elrohir a glare, before he smiled to himself and muttered, "I'll let the bout go to you this time, Elrohir. Valar knows you need it."

Elrohir waved his hand in dismissal. "No, I don't. I'm only ten points behind. I am catching up and will soon surpass you if you do not keep on your toes, Leggy."

Glaring, once more, Legolas asked, "When will you stop calling me by that accursed name?"

Plopping into his seat with grace, Elrohir answered smugly. "Never." Legolas groaned while the others chuckled. "Besides it is Aragorn who needs the extra help." Leaning back in his seat Elrohir asked, "What are the currant scores?"

Thinking for a moment, Legolas answered, "I am in the lead with 230 points. As you already stated, Elrohir, you are 10 points behind with 220. Elladan is third, 218, and Aragorn is last with 210."

"You're falling behind, Estel. You used to lead this competition, little brother. Not losing your touch, now are we?" Elrohir commented before eating a slice of apple.

"If I am losing my touch, brother…" Aragorn started with a raise eyebrow, "then why is there a pink bow in your hair?"

Shaking his head, Elrohir replied, "Nice try, Estel. You had not the opportunity. I will not fall for your bluff."

Smiling, Aragorn leaned back, countering easily, "Am I bluffing? I may not have had the opportunity, but my allies certainly did."

"Allies?" Looking around the table, Elrohir noticed two people returning to their seats, Arwen and his beloved Father. Slowly Elrohir reached up, feeling his head and then with a swift tug, brought the bow unraveling from his hair.

Nodding to his brother, he said, "Well done, Estel. Two points I believe are in order. One point for this little trinket and another for the flowers in Legolas's hair. Who was the culprit?"

Legolas's eyes widen slightly as he yanked the white lilies out of his hair. "Who," he demanded.

"The flowers were mine." Glorfindel stated.

Sighing, Legolas muttered, "No wonder I didn't notice. I was too busy watching Lady Arwen and Lord Elrond." Smirking, Legolas commented, "By the way, Elladan, the bow in your hair matches your brother's nicely."

Groaning, Elladan swiftly removed the offending object from his hair, muttering, "Ada, you traitor."

"Which then, leaves Arwen responsible for my own decoration." Elrohir said. Arwen smiled and nodded while Elrohir continued talking. "Which is another point for Estel. However, because of agreement, he gains ten points for each ally. Which means he earned a total of 33 points, putting him at 243 and back in the lead."

"Brother, just wait until your next birthday," Elrohir warned. "I will have a new way of waking you at unearthly hours."

Resting his forehead in his hand, Aragorn muttered, "Dear Valar, someone save me." Chuckles followed the statement.

"I would brother…." Elladan teased "but I'm still trying to save myself."

Holding a hand to his heart, Elrohir mocked, "Brothers, you wound me so with your words. My heart shall forever hurt with the pain." Chuckles followed his statement.

"Oh, and I forgot about the old wizard to your right, Lady Lillian. As you already know, he is Gandalf the Gray. I would tell you some very interesting things about him, but I do not feel like becoming a toad today." During the accompanying laughter, Elrohir leaned towards Lillian and whispered into her ear, "Beside there are none to be told."

Her lips twitched in amusement. She was amazed at the atmosphere; she had never seen such light heartedness. Back home, the only conversation among the aristocracy was made of subtle insults and arguments. Her mental barrier was far from cracking, but she felt contentment now. She might finally be able to have freedom.

She would still have to learn their rules. Lillian understood that. If she didn't, then the little freedom she had might be taken away. As nice as these people were, she didn't know them and would not trust blindly.

"Lady Lillian, what do you think of your stay in Rivendell? My brother hasn't been bothering you too much, has he," asked Elladan a slight teasing note at the end.

Swallowing a bite of food, Lillian replied, quietly, "It has been very pleasant, Lord Elladan, and no, Lord Elrohir has been very helpful." Lillian could feel everyone's eyes on her and she shifted uncomfortably. She knew they were curious about her, and rightly so. She was a stranger in their home after all. But she still wished that she could disappear from sight.

Seeing her discomfort, Elrohir decided to step in. "A bother? Really Elladan, you should know better than that."

"We do, Elrohir," interrupted Glorfindel. "That is why we asked."

"I cannot help myself," he said with great flair. "Whenever I am in the company of a beauteous woman," he leaned over to Lillian, "I inevitably play the scoundrel." This statement was followed by the expected blush. If it were possible, the former servant shrank even further into herself.

"Elrohir," Legolas warned, dangerously close to uncivil. "That is enough," he said in Elvish.

"You needn't be so rough with me," he laughed, leaning over the table a thoughtful look on his face.

Elrohir reached for his wine goblet while locking glances with Legolas trying to converse with him silently. And then with a silent 'Forgive me' and a quick glance to his twin he 'accidentally' knocked the goblet over.

For a moment, time stood still as the red liquid flew towards Legolas. Splashing against his blinking face, running down his neck into his fine gray tunic. For a moment they sat there in silence before Legolas pursed his lips in anger while narrowing his eyes.

"Elrohir, Elladan. May I speak with you two, in private?" Legolas said while wiping his face. His tone of voice revealed that it was a command, not a request.

Without missing a beat, Elrohir replied cheerfully, "Oh of course, my friend." Turning to the side he sent Lillian a warm smile. His smile widened when he saw her lips tremble from silent laughter. Grabbing her right hand he raised it to his lips, saying, "My lady. Please honor me and wait here while I deal with this jealous elf." Ignoring Legolas's glare, he kissed Lillian's hand. Elrohir watched Lillian shake her head before her mouth opened, only to snap shut.

With a soothing voice, Elrohir said, "You can speak your mind, Lady Lillian. You do not need permission. Now what were you going to say?" From the corner of his eye, Elrohir could see part of Legolas's anger melting to confusion as the girl bowed her head.

"He is angry with you, not jealous, my lord," Lillian whispered softly. "I don't want you to be hurt." Tipping her chin up with a finger, Elrohir looked into her sad, scared eyes and shook his head, slowly. "Why do you think I will be hurt, Lady Lillian," he asked, knowingly.

Her eyes drifted to the side of his face as Lillian focused on his ear. "I have seen that look upon many a man's face before, Lord Elrohir."

Elrohir smiled. "Legolas is a Prince of Mirkwood. He would not sink to blows with me over something so trivial."

Not convinced, but rather trained she nodded. "I shall await your return, then, my lord."

Raising her hand to his lips once more, he placed a gentle kiss upon it and replied, "Thank you my lady. And worry not. All will be well, you will see." Releasing her hand he turned towards his brother and friends. "Let us go to the library to hold this discussion." With a shared nod, the trio left the room.

"Lillian, what was your home like?" Arwen asked in the new silence.

"Miserable." Lillian replied softly, as she started to retreat into herself. Though, surprised at her answer the companions at the table began a conversation, and every once in a while asked Lillian her opinion. As the talk lengthened, Lillian stopped retreating and began to join the discussion herself.

- 

- - - - - - - - 

Twenty minutes later in the library the trio of elves sat around the table. Leaning back in his chair, Legolas crossed his arms over his bare chest, his tunic resting in a heap on the table. "You want me to help you with Lady Lillian," he mumbled. "To progress her healing? That's fine. But you do realize that this might have the opposite affect. Instead of helping she may retreat further." 

"I am willing to risk that," Elrohir said simply. "Quite frankly, I don't see what damage any of us could do that would be worse than what her manner tells me she has seen."

"She has not spoken of her experiences then?" Elladan murmured.

"No." Elrohir said. "I fear that will be her most difficult obstacle."

Studying his brother, Elladan commented, "You believe that there is something in her past that she doesn't want to admit?" Elrohir nodded.

"I do. I have tried to engage her in a conversation about her family. She avoids talking about her father, as if she fears his memory." The three sat in silence, mulling over what they knew. Finally, a low growl of frustration pierced the air.

"Agh," Elladan grumbled. "How does one heal the mind? We know how to heal the body, but the mind, and the soul..." He drifted off, pinching his nose.

"Language," the Prince of Mirkwood answered after a long pause. "She must unburden her mind through that. But how can she do so," he continued, "if she fears the very beings that wish to help her?"

"Perhaps," Elrohir grinned, "the Hobbits."

Raising an eyebrow, Legolas questioned, "What about the hobbits?"

Slightly smiling at the memory, Elrohir answered him. "Yesterday, Lillian met Pippin and Merry. It was they that made her 'come out of her shell.' "

"How so," questioned Elladan.

"She brightened almost immediately when she discovered that they didn't have the title 'lord.'" Elrohir answered.

Sighing, Legolas uncross his armed and looked to Elrohir. "If that is true, then I may not be much use. You already introduced me as a prince. Thus she knows my title and her ingrained fears might not let me help her. I ask you, Elrohir, what do you want me to do?"

"Just be your normal self. Only, try not to let the Lady fall for your youthful charm," a smirk grew across his face. "We want her to be comfortable around the nobility, not overcome."

Legolas just rolled his eyes.

_----------------------_

_Like? Hate? Let me know please!_


	5. Good news or bad news

I know I know…. I'm not supposed to do an author note on this webpage, but I believe the readers have a right to know what is taking me so long to get the next part out.

And for that there is a list…

I know… Excuses… excuses.

Well the reasons…

I work two jobs.

I take college classes.

My original writing will come before fanfiction. (Sorry, but true.)

My computer crash. You don't want to know how much writing I lost.

I not happy with what I do have written and until I am it's not going to be posted. (Sorry! But I am picking on my writing.)

That is basically it. Once again I am sorry for the long wait and can only hope that everyone will be willing to wait until the next part is ready.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, they do help.

I'm going to try to at the very latest to have a part out by Christmas, but at the moment, I can't make any promises.


End file.
